


Three Day Fever

by rosecampion



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-07-18
Updated: 2002-07-18
Packaged: 2018-11-20 19:11:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11341566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosecampion/pseuds/rosecampion
Summary: I never thought I'd write PWP, but here goes. Doggett has a thing for blonds.





	Three Day Fever

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

Three Day Fever

## Three Day Fever

#### by Rose Campion

Three day fever 

pairing: Doggett/Langly  
archive: wherever. Just keep my name on it disclaimer: What the heck. These character's belong to someone else, but they just want to have a little fun and some hot monkey sex. Until CC is willing to do that, somebody has to. Might as well be me. As always, not making a dime from this. warning: This is the story I never thought I'd write. Who'd have thunk it? Me? Writing PWP?  
Rating: NC-17  
Summary: Doggett has a thing for blonds... 

"It's the waters of march ending the summer It's the promise of life in your heart  
It's a snake, it's a stick, it's Joao, it's Jose It's a splinter in the hand, it's a cut on my foot It's a step, a bridge, it's a toad, it's a frog It's Belo Horizonte, it's the three day fever." 

-Aguas De Marco (Waters of March)- Antonio Carlos Jobim 

He'd woken up to a knock on his door. Doggett looked around the room blearily. Not the bedroom. After seeing Scully out the door, he'd settled down on the sofa, TV on. Must have fallen asleep again. Right. Door. A second later, he was mobile, walking towards the door, but not remembering that he was still only wearing the t-shirt and shorts he'd slept in. The clock on the VCR told him that it was just past two in the afternoon. It was the first time he'd slept this late in the day since, well, since he could remember. 

When his hand touched the doorknob to open it, he paused to gather himself. He could do the wake-up thing fast, but he never thought he did it particularly gracefully. And here he was about to open the door to just any stranger off the street without looking first. At least he'd remembered to lock it this time. He looked through the peephole to see who was waiting on the porch. It took him a minute to pin a positive identity on the distorted image. Blond, long hair. Right. One of Mulder's three weird friends. Langly, that was his name. Best looking one out of the bunch. Not exactly Doggett's idea of a wet dream, but probably wouldn't be bad looking if you took the geek glasses off him. And he hadn't brought the other two Stooges with him. There was a mercy. He didn't think he could stand to deal with more than one of them at once. 

Grudgingly, Doggett opened the door enough to peek his head through the opening. "Yeah, what do you want?" 

"Thought I'd drop by and see how the case was going," Langly said. 

"As solved as it's ever going to get." Doggett winced at the thought. None of the i's were dotted and none of the t's were really crossed as far as he was concerned. But the man was dead. No further to go even if hadn't been ordered to drop the case. That was a real kick in the pants, but then his life had been full of that kind of thing ever since he'd taken on looking for Spooky Mulder and he was pretty damn tired of it. 

"Can I come in? It's cold out here." Langly was shivering in a pair of jeans that looked like they must have been painted on and a Ramones t-shirt, no jacket. There was a nip of chill in the air. Doggett opened the door fully to let the man in, more for the chance to shut the door behind him than anything. The draft he was letting in was causing his leg and arm hair to stand up on end. 

"How'd you find my address?" Doggett asked suspiciously. He pinned Langly to the wall of the front hallway using nothing more than his stare. 

"DMV. Virginia's a little harder to crack than Maryland, but it's still a walk in the park." 

Doggett shrugged. He should have known. Probably they had his credit report and more personal information than he cared to think about by now. "What did you want, Goldilocks? Or are you just bugging me on my day off for the hell of it?" 

Actually, Doggett had a pretty good idea what Langly was doing here. There was little mistaking the fact that the jeans he wore looked like something you'd go cruise a bar in, same for the t-shirt, other than the Ramone's design. He just wasn't sure if he was quite in the mood for it. He weighed the options in his mind. Getting laid always had a certain appeal. It'd been a real dry spell for a while. This whole damn search for Agent Spooky thing had put a crimp on that aspect of his social life. It didn't help that his current object of obsession was way off limits. On the other hand, it sounded like an awful damn lot of work. Not so much the getting laid part, but the whole negotiating the encounter, dealing with the other party and deciding what exactly he wanted out of this seemed like a lot of bother. It didn't help that he felt like crap, kind of like a hangover, but he didn't even have a pleasant bender of the night before to explain it. Too much sleep maybe? It'd probably just be easiest to antagonize Langly into leaving. Or maybe not. He looked Langly up and down again. The man's body was lean, harder than you'd expect for a computer geek. Maybe getting laid wasn't such a bad idea. And the action coming to him was certainly a hell of a lot easier than going out and finding it. He guessed Langly must have noticed him checking him out. It'd just been an automatic thing. Blonds caught his eye, they always had. 

"You got a problem with the hair?" 

"No, no, problem." Doggett stepped closer, close enough to lift a lock of the blond in his fingers. Then he stroked down its length. Not as soft as his wife's had been. This hair was coarser, a little bit longer than his ex-wife's hair had been and kind of straggly, with uneven ends. It smelled of apple shampoo. "The hair is one of the things I do like," he said. 

With that, Langly stiffened for a moment and Doggett wondered if he'd misjudged the situation, something he rarely did. But then Langly relaxed even before Doggett had a chance to drop the lock of hair. "You want to come in for a drink or something?" 

"Something sounds good." Langly turned and closed the distance between them, so that they were looking into each other's eyes, only a few inches apart. Good. Langly was making this easier. No dance of negotiation here, just simple lust between two men, as blatant as any bar pickup. He was a little taller than Langly, he noticed now, and definitely the more muscular one. Doggett reached out and put his left hand on Langly's ass and squeezed appreciatively. Not exactly a bubble butt, but what was there was firm. 

Langly leaned in those last few inches and placed his lips on Doggett's. The kiss was inquiring, ready to back off, understandable. Some guys didn't like kissing for these kind of casual encounters. Doggett had never understood that. Kissing was nice, one of the best parts. He moved his hand where it still was, holding Langly's hair, to the back of Langly's head drawing him in for a deeper kiss that he controlled. 

The man kissed like an angel, a dangerous angel. It was good, really good. Melted him like a hersey bar left on the dashboard in July. Hard lips against his, demanding and getting. Langly pushed his tongue into Doggett's mouth, but not past his teeth. He ran his tongue between Doggett's gums and upper lip and any illusions Doggett had about who was going to end up on top here melted just like that metaphorical bar of chocolate. Langly pushed his hips close to Doggett's, not quite grinding them, but his leg had suddenly invaded the space between Doggett's legs. And Doggett was made aware of his hard on by the brush of Langly's jeans across his boxers. Strange, how sure of himself Langly was. Doggett would have figured him for a thirty year old virgin, the kind of guy who'd be still living in Mom's basement, except he had his weird friends to hang out with. 

Langly put his hands on top of Doggett's and gently guided them away from the back of his neck and then down to his hips. When Langly ground those hips against Doggett, he whimpered. He didn't seem to have a choice in the matter. Damn, what was this man doing to him? No one in years had persuaded him to soften into their touch like this. He was hot, like a fever, starting to sweat already. It hadn't been so long that he was desparate. So what was it? 

"Bedroom," Langly demanded. 

"Upstairs." 

Doggett led them through the house to the stairs. They paused here and there to neck like crazed teenagers. Doggett lost his t-shirt somewhere in the living room and socks on the stairs, leaving him far more naked than Langly by the time they reached the bedroom. He was kissing Langly, backed up against the bed. Langly's fingers were probing, rubbing the cleft in Doggett's ass through the fabric of his shorts. Then suddenly the bed rose up to meet his back. Oh, Langly had pushed him over. Right. Bed. Sex. Oh. Yeah, better take care of one thing before he was so completely sex stupid he couldn't remember his own name, much less anything else. 

He tore his mouth away from Langly's just long enough to blurt out, "Condoms. Left bedside table." Then he pressed his mouth back to Langly's angelic kisses. 

Then, damn the man, Langly tore himself away, leaving Doggett in whimpering need. Langly reached for the left bedside table as he'd been directed and pulled out not just the box of condoms but the tube of lube as well. He set these on top of the table, then proceded to take his own, damn sweet time getting undressed. First came the glasses, carefully folded then laid on the table, far enough away from the lube that they wouldn't get accidentally knocked off. He'd been right. Langly was much better looking without the glasses. 

It had been too long. Doggett had forgotten how this could be. How sensitized he got to everything. The blankets rough on his bare back, the air of the room cold on his hot skin, the elastic on the waist of his shorts hardly bearable around his waist. His cock was poking through the fly of them, not quite constrained, but the fabric uncomfortable against it. 

Oddly, Langly pulled a hair elastic from his jeans, struggling to get it out. Then he bound his hair back into a loose pony tail. Doggett opened his mouth to protest, but before he could talk, Langly explained, "It gets in the way." 

Then slowly, too damn slowly, Langly pulled the black t-shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor. Any doubts that Doggett might have had that Langly was a natural blond were put to rest by the sight of a small patch of downy blond hair decorating the other man's chest. Langly's nipples were small and light pink. Then the belt was undone. He didn't bother to pull it out of its loops, but he just undid the top button of the jeans, then lingered as he pulled the zipper down. Definitely putting on a show for Doggett. How did he manage? That must have been painful keeping that monster zipped into jeans that tight. It sprang free now though, not the largest Doggett had ever dealt with, but certainly one to be proud of. Oh, yeah. He was going to like this. Lots. It wasn't really fair to call him a size queen, but, well, all other variables held equal, bigger simply was better. 

He wanted, no, needed to get his lips around that. Langly had other ideas though. Langly knelt down in front of Doggett and ripped his shorts down with one, quick, almost savage motion that left Doggett gasping at the rough rasp of fabric over his dick. Then there was wet warmth to soothe and Doggett forgot about everything else for a moment, except for one nagging thought. Forgetting something, he thought vaguely. Oh, yeah. Damn. "Condom," he managed to stammer out. 

Langly pulled himself off of Doggett. "Just for this? I hate the taste of latex." 

"Too bad," Doggett managed, reaching up for the box himself. It always paid to be careful. He'd been around the block more than a few times and so far came out safe, so it must be working. Langly beat him to the box and pulled a couple of the foil wrapped squares out. There was a tearing sound and a moment later, the tight sheath was being rolled down Doggett's length. Then the mouth was replaced. It wasn't quite as good, the sensation somewhat diminished by the extra layer, but it was still overwhelming. Thank God for the condom, Doggett thought, otherwise I'd be coming right now. He didn't want to come just yet. He wanted to string this out for a while. It'd been so long and who knew when he was going to come again, except by a date with Rosie Palm. He was going to ride this for all it was worth. 

He buried his fingers deep into Langly's blond hair and lost himself for a while in the feel of silky strands in his fingers and hot pressure and rubbing and solid skull under hair and scalp. Oh, it'd been too damn long and Langly was damn good. Doggett was so blissed out he didn't notice the invading finger until it was already in and had brushed that spot that made his cock twitch, his balls jump and his whole abdomen contract in pleasure. 

"No," he managed to blurt out. "Other way round. I'm not a bottom." 

Langly didn't move the finger, but he lifted his head off of Doggett's cock, who whimpered and couldn't stop himself from trying to pull Langly back down again. Langly resisted successfully. "Yeah, right, G-man. You want it bad." 

"Uh-uh," Doggett managed to stammer. 

Then Langly moved his finger again, and though Doggett tried valiently, he couldn't stop himself from gasping, then moving, trying to get more of that motion. His body was being a traitor. 

"You sure about that, G-man?" Langly asked. 

Doggett had pulled a lot of that blond hair out of its ponytail and it framed Langly's face. Doggett was reminded oddly of his wife, but not in a bad way, just remembering that he'd had a hell of a time ever telling her no to anything. Langly twisted his finger again, then engulfed Doggett's cock in his mouth again. Hell. Much more of this and he'd have trouble breathing much less being able to say no to the man. "Okay," he said, his voice surprisingly rough to his own ears, even considering what was going on. "Okay. Whatever you want." 

He wasn't sure of the exact mechanics of it, but not too much later, his legs were wrapped around Langly's slim waist and the other man's mouth seemed to have attached itself by vacuum suction to the crook right where Doggett's neck joined his shoulder. And he was reminded why he hated being the bottom. Not the burning, stretching sensation that was slowly going away as Langly laid still. It was how overwhelming this all was. He was delerious with need, it seemed. He babbled softly to himself, nonsense consisting mostly of "Yes, oh, yes." It was the loss of control, the feeling that he couldn't stop that babble, even if he wanted to. No, not because he hated the sensations of being fucked like this. He liked it too well. 

And when Langly started to move, another kind of burning started, this one generalized over his whole body, like a fever, like a blistering. Like a weakness spreading. Like electricity, not just on his skin, but through every nerve, every pore. Langly shifted positions slightly as he moved and Doggett's cock was caught more effectively between them, rubbing, unbearable one minute, then the next, something he tried to thrust up into. That was another thing he hated. The feeling like he should be thrusting into something, that something should be enveloping him, but now that didn't matter. 

It was, it was...Oh, yes. His body started without him, but he was soon caught up in the familiar clench and tensing, then he fell over the edge. No, he was thrown over it. Who was making that girly scream? He just barely registered the source as himself. He was almost back to himself when he locked eyes with Langly. Blue eyes, just like his own, he thought. They closed and Langly's face screwed up tight, just like people's always did before orgasm, then the other man was shuddering on top of him, coming without making a sound other than one muffled grunt. Then he collapsed on top of Doggett, both of them limp, sweaty. Not just limp, Doggett was plain boneless, unable to move for far more reasons than that another man was lying on top of him. Sated, exhausted, that's what he was. Oh, yeah, it'd been good. 

Not until after Langly peeled himself away from Doggett, then skinned the condom off himself, did Doggett realize that he hadn't even made sure that Langly was wearing one. Hell, what was this man doing to him? The condom was nasty, soiled inside and out, Doggett could see. Well it wasn't like Doggett had planned for this and that happened sometimes. Langly was looking for someplace to throw it away. 

"Tissues over this side of the bed," Doggett said, but he didn't try and move. Langly reached over him and grabbed a couple. He wrapped the used condom in one. Pulled off the condom still clinging to Doggett and wrapped that in another. Blotted a few spots here and there on Doggett's stomach then crushed the whole into a big tissue blob. He leaned over Doggett again to toss it in the trash can on that side of the bed. 

Then Langly laid back down, snuggling close to Doggett. He pulled the few locks remaining in the elastic back out again, then rested his head on Doggett's chest, playing idly with a nipple in easy reach. Their sweaty skin stuck together, but Doggett found himself not minding so much. It was always nice, snuggling after mindblowing sex, no matter who it was with. 

They drifted off to sleep together. Langly was still on his chest when he woke up, disoriented by the strange weight. Long hair in his fingers was a distant if familiar memory. Barbara? his sleepy mind thought sadly for a minute. No, the rest of the body was very masculine, not allowing him to forget about its hard planes, bones and muscles. He remembered more clearly now. Langly. 

Outside, it was dark, he could see through the shutters. Another weekend day had crept by him. He reached over with his free hand to turn on the light, trying not to disturb the other man, but Langly was starting to stir anyway. "Oh, hey," Langly said. 

"Hey. Move a little bit. I want to see what time it is." Langly was pinning down his right arm at the moment. The blond man shifted and Doggett was able to look at his watch. Seven in the evening. "You, uh, want to stay for dinner or something?" 

Doggett always was careful never to toss a guy out in the middle of the night, no matter how casual the encounter. He was a good host. He always had breakfast the next morning and a clean toothbrush for the guy to use even. He'd been tossed out on his ear after sex often enough to have learned to hate the rude bastards who pulled that shit. He wasn't quite sure what the etiquette for a late afternoon encounter was, but dinner seemed appropriate, social. Friendly. 

"What time is it?" 

"'Bout seven." 

"Sorry. Gotta go. The guys are going to start wondering where I went pretty soon." 

"What, you got a curfew?" Not that he'd had any illusions that this was about anything but sex, that they were going to start dating or declare true love, but Doggett definitely felt stung to be brushed off like this. He pulled himself all the way off of Langly, unsticking bareskin, throwing the blanket off. 

Langly seemed to realize a little at least what he was doing. "Sorry, it's my turn to cook dinner for the guys. I'm running late. I didn't mean to fall asleep so long. This was nice. We should, you know, do it again sometime." 

"Maybe," Doggett said, reluctantly. 

Then Langly was gone in a flurry of blond hair and retrieved jeans, pulling himself together in what must have been record time. Later, as Doggett was sitting at his kitchen table, icing down the huge hickey that Langly had left, he muttered to himself, "Glad you had such a great time that you couldn't wait to get the hell out of here." At least the damn hickey wasn't so high that his shirt and tie wouldn't cover it. And it should be mostly gone by Monday. What kind of juvenile shit was that anyway? He'd probably get a few knowing grins from the guys and even a few jibs about him cradle robbing. If only they knew... 

So, why was he standing at the peephole the next morning, about to reach for the handle to let Langly back into his house? You are one sick puppy, Johnboy, for even thinking about doing this again, he told himself, even as his hand was turning on the knob. Langly hardly waited until the door was closed before advancing on Doggett. He pushed Doggett against the front door and started kissing him, teasing, nipping kisses at first. He broke it off to ask, "No problem doing this again?" 

"No, no problem," Doggett reassured him, then let himself be kissed. After that he was just lost, fervishly unable to make any decisions or think clearly until Langly was gone, bolting mere minutes after they woke up from the second postcoital nap. Langly had had his ass twice by that point. 

The third day in a row this happened, the last day of the long weekend, Doggett decided that Langly was something like a cat. He barged in when he pleased, demanded affection, attention, but on his terms only, then when he was satisfied with what he'd gotten, he stalked off to sleep it off. It wouldn't do any good to ask Langly to stay a minute beyond what Langly had decided was the duly appointed time of departure, no more than you could hold a cat. 

No, Langly was like a sickness. One minute you were feeling normal, then the next, there it was, there he was, and it was all you could do to fall into bed and just ride the fever out. It left at some mysterious time, caused by forces beyond your control. 

It wasn't that the man was that good looking, because he wasn't. But something in the combination of long blond hair and... something in there made Doggett feel like he was spinning out of control the instant he caught sight of the man. It was just physical. Not that he'd ever been given a chance to get to know this man any way beyond that. He'd taken by Langly three times now, but he still didn't know where he lived, except from what he gleaned from Mulder's files and the little talk they shared, that it was with the other two Stooges at the headquarters of the Lone Gunmen. Wherever that was. Maryland somewhere. 

Langly was down on his knees, Doggett pressed bare ass against the bedroom door. At this exact moment, he didn't care much about where Langly lived. A hand was pulling him away from the cool wood of the door, then a finger insinuated itself in his cleft, knowing exactly where it was headed. 

"You going to fuck me again?" Doggett asked, with a voice that sounded as rough as poor grade landscape rock, even to him. 

"That's the plan. Let's get on the bed." 

"Why are you doing this?" 

"Fucking you?" Langly's finger slid with deadly accurate aim into Doggett, then the finger fucking started. It was all that Doggett could do to answer, just with a weak nod. Oh, this was good. Langly's finger found his joy button unerringly. 

"Because you're hot. What? Don't you like it? I could always stop." He pulled his finger out most of the way, left it so that just the fingertip remained inside Doggett. "Because I like you, G-man. And because I get a kick out of making you scream. So, you want it or not?" 

Oh, I want it all right, Doggett thought. Only problem is, I don't want it too. He remained silent, unable to answer. At the lack of an answer from Doggett, Langly frowned, "What's the matter? Don't you like me too?" He removed his hand completely from Doggett. 

"I don't fucking know, do I?" Finally not distracted by Langly's expert touch, Doggett was able to speak his frustration. "When you bolt out the door the second you're done fucking me." 

Now it was time for Langly to lose some of his self-possession. He backed away from Doggett, still frowing, "I didn't know. I figured you weren't the type to get, you know, mushy. And that you were offering just to be polite." 

"I'm not mushy. But the way I figure it, there's a hell of a lot of ground between slam, bam, thank you man, then you out the door and us declaring eternal love. And I figure if we're going to make this a regular thing, we'd better learn to occupy some of it. Maybe we could start by you staying for dinner or something." 

"The guys are going to wonder where I am..." 

"Phone's right there." Doggett pointed to the phone on the bedside table. God knows it'd woken him up often enough. "Call 'em." 

"I can't call from here. They'll want to know why. There will be a lot of explaining to do that I'm not ready for yet." 

"I thought you guys were all buddy buddy. I mean, I'm hardly the out of the closet poster boy, but if your pals don't accept this about you, then maybe they're not such good friends after all." 

"Oh! They know I'm gay. But they'd never let me live it down if they found out I'm sleeping with a narc." 

It'd never occurred to him that Langly would be ashamed of him. Not that he was about to go dragging Langly in front of the few friends he had that knew he was gay. 

Langly continued talking, "It's not like you're the only one I'm not telling them about. Frohike and Byers still think I'm a virgin. They'd never approve of my preferences. I've got this thing, you know..." 

"For cops? FBI agents? You had a thing for Mulder too?" 

"Nah. Not Mulder. He's not...straight acting enough. Butch military guys. Short hair. Badass attitude. Had it bad for Skinner for a while, but I'm no masochist. It's obvious _he's_ burning with unrequited love or lust or something for Mulder." 

Doggett tucked this interesting bit of conjecture away for the moment. "So, you think I got a badass attitude?" 

"Oh, yeah. Makes it that much hotter when you're begging for it. Not that you're not hot enough as is." 

"Let's get one thing straight, I do not beg." Still, Doggett smiled. Always did the ego a bit of good to hear that someone thought you were hot. 

"You did last night, G-man. In a big way. You can't deny it." 

Well, if he replayed the memory tapes from the particular bit of time, then, yes, he had begged for it. Funny, that thought. Him, begging to get fucked. "That was an aberration," he protested. 

"Whatever. It still was hot. Dinner, you said? 'Cause I would like to do this again. Nothing heavy you know. Just fuck buddies." 

"Yeah, sure. Look, it's going to be hard to be your fuck buddy if you don't let me be your buddy first. I'm just that way." 

"Dinner then. I'll buy." Langly got up from his knees. He started looking around for the clothes he'd shed earlier. 

"Hey, I thought the plan was for you to fuck me," Doggett protested. Despite all this talking, his woody had only flagged a little bit. It was still ready for action. So was he. He said, "Dinner afterwards." 

"You're awfully bossy for a bottom." 

"I ain't a bottom. I'm a top who's telling you to fuck me. Right about now might be a good idea." 

Langly laughed, then took a few steps closer to Doggett. Grabbed him a tight clinch and gave Doggett a few breathless kisses. Then he paused and said, "Whatever you say, G-man." 

* * *

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Rose Campion 


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